Accidentally in Love
by AmazingGraceless
Summary: Hermione's feeling something strange... What is it. Round 4 Quidditch Competition, write a story depicting the emotion of love without actually saying the word.


For Hermione, her emotions were quite logical, and sane, and always, it seemed, under her control. She knew what each one was and why she felt that way psychologically, and she always seemed to know what was there. Her mother, Dominique Granger, had told her ever since she was young that Hermione, like her, was merely introspective, in touch with her emotions.

Never had Hermione felt something that couldn't be explained away or resolved quickly.

For some time now, a new emotion had been plaguing Hermione. Something... Different. And it frustrated her. It frustrated Hermione Granger so much, she almost couldn't stand to live when she didn't know what her emotions were doing to her. She ate very little, and she tossed and turned at night, because she couldn't sleep because of that stupid little emotion she just couldn't pin down.

It felt nice, Hermione reasoned, the few times she let the emotion wash over her, and she sank into its' strawberry ice-cream. She wanted to know what it was, but what if the emotion she was feeling was actually something truly wonderful? Something she might never feel again? Something, dare Hermione think it, lovely?

"Oi! Granger!" Hermione made the mistake of looking back. The ferrety little git, Draco Lucius Malfoy. How Hermione often wished she could give him another taste of her right-hook.

"Granger!" Malfoy had finally caught up. A surge of the rose-tinted feeling rose into Hermione's psyche.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione said firmly, albeit more politer than she usually would have.

"Well, you see, you're the best in Transfiguration class, as much as I hate to admit it, and I need help understanding the principles of Animagi." Malfoy said, with a bit of a swagger that most of Hermione's old muggle friends would have enjoyed. Right until the boy opened his mouth.

"Fine. I'll do it because I'm in a good mood today, Malfoy, but that's about it." Hermione said quietly. "Meet me in the library after your last class."

"Alright, Granger, let's get this over with," Malfoy said with a smirk on his face.

"You're late." Hermione said coldly. She'd been pacing for a good thirty minutes.

"Yes, well, I wanted to get all of my Transfiguration textbooks so we could go through all of the most basic principles of Transfiguration, and slowly work our way up." He said.

Hermione groaned. "That's going to take too long, Malfoy. Besides, I thought you were good at Transfiguration."

Malfoy shrugged. "It's a long story."

"I can keep up."

"When that horrible creature slashed my arm, which will never be the same again," Malfoy began, and he looked wistfully down at the sling on his right arm. "I missed McGonagall's Transfiguration class, and Crabbe and Doyle, while being entirely useful and intimidating, are not very good for academic activities and rather failed to get me the notes."

"That's not such a long story. Besides, why didn't Parkinson get you notes? She's practically soppy over you." Hermione asked.

"You try reading the principles of the transformation of human to animal through doodles in pink ink that look suspiciously like Draco + Pansy and other weird heart stuff." Malfoy said.

"Well, as difficult as I would imagine that to be," Hermione said, rather coldly again as she tried to fight off that feeling that was making her so damn soft. She couldn't keep living like this, in the pink rose petals and strawberry ice cream and crap like that.

"Besides, Granger," Malfoy continued, oblivious to the rage going on inside Hermione, "I heard you were in a strangely good mood, and wanted to see for myself."

"I. Am. Not." Hermione grunted through gritted teeth as she clenched her hands into fists. Her heart was hammering in against her ribs, and she felt like she was stepping with every possibility of falling within seconds, into some bottomless pit, always in the free fall.

"Well, you did seem to be in a particularly good mood when I approached you earlier." Malfoy said, starting to look perhaps- dare Hermione say this- concerned.

"I'm just frustrated right now, Malfoy! And maybe if you weren't so aggravating, I wouldn't be feeling all this random crap that I really shouldn't be feeling!" Hermione shouted.

"SHHH!" Ms. Pince has hissed from behind a bookshelf.

Hermione hunched her shoulders, and started writing down the basic principles of the Animagus transformation.

"Alright, Granger, seriously though, what's up with you?" Malfoy asked.

"Why would you care, Malfoy?" Hermione asked. She refused to surrender to this feeling, particularly in front of him.

"First, call me Draco, second-"

"Why should I call you Draco when you've never once called me Hermione?" She interrupted.

"Because you've never given me permission to use your given name." Draco said simply.

"Are you like a vampire in that respect, always needing an invitation for everything?" Hermione asked.

"Tut, tut, Granger- I mean, Hermione, haven't you ever used your Gilderoy Lockhart textbooks?" Draco asked.

Hermione's face turned a violent shade of red. "Shut up, Mal- I mean Draco."

"Wow, your hormones are giving you a ride." Draco remarked.

"Fine, you wanna know what I'm feeling, or how I'm feeling! You figure it out, then!" Hermione shouted. And then, much to her own surprise, she told him what she'd been feeling. And to her extreme surprise, Draco listened patiently, like a true friend (or in some cases with Ron and Harry, like a true friend _didn't._ )

"Well, I know what you're feeling. It's quite simple, really." Draco said, and with a smirk, he leaned over and kissed her.

"We both know it was an accident," Draco whispered, "but I'm not surrendering any of this."


End file.
